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As the ring of her call dissolved into the sheet rain, the young grey slumped casually, tilting her hind foot to rest in the waterlogged mud. The weather prevented flight, thus binding the young restless creature to the confines of her homeland- battling through sodden desert sand to escape the ugly atmosphere certainly offered little appeal. The creamy glow of her bothered gaze continued to survey the grass patch ahead, though for now she remained indolently stuck in the mud above the pathway.
While she loved the rain and its nourishing, reviving effect on the plants and flowers she devoted much of her time tending to, on this particular occasion it seemed to drown her unusually high spirits. There was no particular reason for her shift in attitude- aside from the unproductive days searching for the Throat’s General, but she understood graciously that he was of great importance and had far bigger responsibilities across his black and white shoulders then passing the time, gardening or chatting. The water coursed tirelessly against her stationary legs, and she allowed a moment- mid inspection, to glance down. It was not terribly deep yet, though her eyes narrowed accusingly when they found terracotta stained legs had replaced her charcoal grey set.
With a contemptuous snuffle, Africa heaved herself further up the low bank, until she was standing clear of the mud, water and filth in general. Turning then, with nothing better to occupy herself with she began scraping the beading water from her glossy feathers, quill by quill, and realigning them so that they posed still an even better chance at remaining dry. She had barely begun fiddling with the fifth, when the sloshing sound of hooves pumping mud filled the air about her quickly lifted face. Her ears quivered as the sound grew nearer and she fluffed her wings, and drew them snugly against her mottled barrel.
The stallion hastened through the gap in long palm fronds that she had not long ago been peering through. His body steamed against the icy shed of rain, and Africa immediately flushed with embarrassment. “Are you alright Africa?” He asked, as he splashed down the streaming trail towards her, water flicking out from beneath his belly with each powerful stride. She sighed, and the cloud of breath blended with his as he arrived by her side.
“Whoops...” She muttered, blushing as she scolded herself inwardly, though her eyes could easily have betrayed the thought when she severed the lock of his concerned gaze to peer coyly at the grasses narrowly escaping his crushing weight. “I’m so sorry...” Even as his nose extended in greeting, water dribbling down between his flared nostrils and all, Africa hesitated childishly. She had well and truly escaped the meek shell which had encased her upon their first meeting so long ago- now she was the silly fool she had presented as before; but doubled these days with the more often than not unflattering form of carefree tactlessness. She was learning though, and her character was maturing with each passing day.
“Midas, I didn’t mean to trouble you. I guess I had nothing better to do, and shouldn’t have presumed you would be readily available.” She blushed still hotter, his presence no less exhilarating than it had been on the previous occasions. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.” Africa’s voiced shrank away bashfully, the tone both apologetic and exceedingly grateful. Carefully though, she met his eye as she spoke- that admiring look bore the esteem and respect the young horse had for him in itself.
"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."
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[P] I'm Not Affraid to Sleep Now [Midas]
